Winchester pride
by Gett
Summary: Oneshot. Sam is being bullied at school and tries to keep Dean from the truth.- Teenchesters- Dean 16- Sam 12


Description: Sam is being bullied at school and tries to keep Dean from the truth.

**Warnings:** Violence mild – mild hurt Sam/ mild hurt Dean.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything Supernatural related. All towns and other people are made up, any similarity to the living or dead are purely coincidental.

**Setting:** Teenchesters- Dean 16- Sam 12

**Author's notes:** Unrelated to any other of my stories. My first one shot. Thanks to SeaKat for the wonderful beta job. All mistakes are mine not hers.

**Winchester pride**

Sam Winchester ducked his head as he slid between the buildings of the latest junior high he was enrolled at. His brother Dean had seen him to the first of the buildings at the southern end of the school and headed north towards the senior high school. As Sam moved towards his first class of the day, a group of six older students stepped into his path from being the woodwork building where, by the look and smell of them, they had been having their morning smoke. Sam felt a small amount of dread float around in his belly as they closed ranks around him. These guys had started picking on Sam a few days ago but he had managed to make them back off with threats of him having a knife. The older boys in the group were well known around all levels of the school as they should have been in seniors by now but kept failing classes. The younger ones were more or less monkey see monkey do, carbon copies in the making. In a practiced move, Ryan, easily the biggest of the group, had Sam's backpack off and was searching through it.

"Where's your knife, Wimpchester? Don't have it? Never had it? Daddy won't let you play with knives? What daddy?"he taunted as he threw the contents of his bag on the ground. Sam knelt to gather his things but Ryan wasn't finished. He pushed Sam roughly into the side of the building almost winding him. _"I want the knife, bring it tomorrow Wimpchester or I will beat the living snot out of you."_ He pushed Sam away and his friends laughed hard as they skulked back behind the building. Sam gathered his now even more scuffed things and headed for the bathroom to tidy up before his first class.

Sam managed to keep away from the bullies for the rest of the day and was brooding over the situation as he trailed back to their motel room behind his brother. Thankfully, Dean saw that Sam was in one of his "moods" and left him alone. Dean set about cleaning up, doing home work, doing laundry and cooking their dinner…leaving a gloomy Sam to do his homework and look for his knife.

He wasn't stupid enough to think Ryan and his gang would leave him alone. He thought about taking a handgun instead but he knew he would get his ass kicked by Dean and his dad for pulling a stunt like that. But his dad was away on a hunt for the week leaving Dean in charge…he might get away with it.

He sighed, deciding against it and kept looking for his knife, eventually having to look in Dean's bag for it. Sam knew Dean would never take his stuff without asking but…when his dad had given him the knife for his last birthday, Sam had seen a look pass over Dean's face. He had taken the look to be jealously that their dad had remembered _his _birthday and given _him _a present. Sam had been surprised as well: two gifts plus a cake? He could still remember thinking his dad was going to miss the day but John had turned up that night just before he went to bed. It had been a good birthday.

Dean, unfortunately, caught him going through his bag. Dean leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. He quirked his eyebrow and smirked,"What you want Sammy? Playboy?"

Sam flushed at Dean's joke. "My pen's gone missing, thought you might have it." It wasn't a complete lie. Sam had lost his favorite pen two days ago and was unhappy about it. It was a solid silver pen that Dean had given to him a year before when they had been hunting a werewolf. Dean had given it to his worried eleven year old brother and told him to stab it in the eye with it if necessary. Sam's mind felt more at ease when he clutched the pen. Whether it was because his brother had given it to his or the silver it contained he didn't know but it gave him a sense of security he desperately wanted.

Dean frowned. "I don't have your pen Sammy. I would never take that." It had cost Dean quite a bit of money to get that pen. He had to gamble in a backyard card game to get the money, a card game that at one stage he thought he wasn't going to get away from with his life.

"What about my knife? Do you have that?" Dean frowned harder at Sam's accusatory tone.

"Why would I…? No. It's yours Sam." Dean's brow creased as Sam strode to the bathroom to get ready for bed_. _"Do you want me to help you look for them?"

Dean's voice sounded a little strained to Sam. Maybe he was lying and he did take them. _No, Dean wouldn't lie to me_, his mind reasoned. "No, it's ok. Thanks," he said through a forced smile.

"Maybe you left them in the car?" Dean wondered when Sam had started getting so careless with his personal possessions. The boys had very few material things and those they did have meant something. Try getting the amulet Sammy had given him from his neck…They would have to pull it out of his cold dead hands.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam's voice was quiet. He shrugged not really believing what he was saying. The Impala was with their dad so there would be no way of knowing until he got back. _A great way of covering your ass_, _Sammy_, an evil little voice on Sam shoulder cackled.

The next morning, Sam went a different way into the school but Ryan and his gang seemed to have him under careful watch and intercepted him again. He had his bag dumped and tried to explain that his brother had the knife. His words were wasted as Ryan and his friends rained blows down upon him.

Sam had enough training with Dean and his dad to avoid getting hurt too badly. The one bright side about it was that it was the beginning of the day and he had most of his classes to get himself in some sort of order before he had to meet up with Dean.

Even with his careful ministrations, Dean noticed. Dean always noticed. "You ok little brother? You need some help?"he asked, barely concealing his concern.

"I'm fine, Dean."

"Is someone picking on you?" Dean questioned, closing the door to the motel with more force than he intended. No one picked on his baby brother.

"_**I can handle it Dean. I don't need your help."**_ It came out rather sharply and left Dean looking slightly hurt. Sam skulked to the bathroom and spent the remainder of the night in silence.

The rest of the week was the same for Sam: a beating before school and the day used to get himself in order. Dean asked everyday _"You ok little brother? You need some help?"_Sam would respond with stony silence.

Friday broke the silence. The concerned look in Dean's green eyes, mistaken for pity, made Sam's blood boil. _"I just __**need**__ you to leave me alone and __**keep your hands of my stuff."**_ Sam had found his only novel missing the night before and was quite pissed about it. He left Dean standing looking at him with a shocked expression but he was just too tired and annoyed to care about what Dean thought.

He'd come up with a plan: he'd get Dean to teach him some more techniques to fight supernatural bullies. He'd never let on that the real reason he wanted to learn was to fight off the all-too-human tormentors that haunted his school days. But the weekend was far too short. Dean was away for most of it with their dad on the hunt leaving Sam to stew in his own juices. Dean arrived back late on Sunday, just having time to wash their clothes before crashing to sleep after a long hard weekend.

The week was a replica of the previous one. He was starting to learn how to nurse his bruises without Dean getting to suspicious. He was still short and snappy with Dean refusing to talk about it and the longer the week went the more he blamed Dean for his troubles. The longer he brooded and thought about it the more it began to fester like an infected splinter in his mind.

On Wednesday, he was sent to the senior library by his teacher to get some books for the class. As he stood at the desk waiting for the librarian to return, his eyes wandered over to the study tables. There was his brother surrounded by kids his own age. Their idea of studying included laughter, jokes, and throwing bits of paper at each other. As Sam watched, Dean flicked a piece of paper that hit the pen of a cute brunette two seats from him. Dean gave her a flirtatious grin and she blushed crimson as she lowered her head and began writing a note. Sam stared hard at the pen in her hand. A silver pen that looked incredibly familiar. The stress of a week of being beaten crashed down on him, suffocating Sam with a red blanket of rage…anger at Dean for lying, that Dean had taken his pen to give to some chick! The girl with _**his**_ pen reached over and patted Dean on the arm. Sam's face contorted with a wave of fury as they smiled at each other.

Sam's refusal to speak to him worried Dean. He knew Sam had been going through some kind of problem with bullies, so he had given him some room to deal with it on his own. Dean was a little offended that Sam hadn't asked for help with them but wanted Sam to be independent and able to fight his own battles. But that didn't stop him wanting to help and protect his younger sibling. Dean had dealt with his own battles growing up and knew what it was like. He would be more than happy to step in when Sam had had enough. But Sam seemed to be getting more pissed with him even though he was going out of his way to make things easier for him. It all seemed to come to a head when Sam started storming around the motel swearing and cursing.

"What's up Sammy?"

"Don't you Sammy me. You stole my comb, didn't you? Why are you always stealing from me? I hate you." Sam slammed the door and locked himself in the bathroom, the only place they had to go when they wanted time alone.

"Sam! What the hell, man?" Dean said to the door. He was bewildered with Sam's attitude and the sudden blame game he had going on. Dean finished what he needed to do in the motel room then took the laundry to the laundry mat. He spent way longer than he needed to just to give Sam time to cool down. Sure enough, when he got back Sam was sound asleep. Angry and hurt, Dean wanted to wake Sam up and wring the truth from him but in the end he let him sleep, resolving to talk to him the next afternoon.

The next morning Sam was sneaking between the outer building of the junior high when Ryan and his gang made their inevitable appearance. Sam flung his bag on the ground _"Just get it over with,_" he snarled feed up to the back teeth with the whole thing.

"You've got balls, Wimpchester. I'll give you that. Did you bring anything for me?"

"If you want anything from me you will have to go see my brother. He has all my stuff," Sam spat. He didn't know why he had said that.

The boys guffawed with laughter. "Your brother? Is he that other Wimpchester over in senior?" Ryan stepped closer and grabbed him by the hair. "I think I will go see the other Wimpchester after school and give him your beating instead. If he has nothing, you get double tomorrow." To emphasize the point Ryan shoved Sam's head into the brick wall where he received a light graze to his jaw. Sam righted himself and watched the older boys strut away from him. They wouldn't really go after Dean, would they? Sam knew Dean had a fairly tough reputation over in the senior school but would it be enough to keep these boys off his back? Besides, Dean could hold his own against a bunch of fourteen year olds…right? Well, technically, Ryan was fifteen as were two of the others but the rest were younger.

Sam kept glancing at the clock for the remainder of the day. It seemed that the clocks had been set to run backwards they were going so slow. Finally, he escaped at the end of the day and ran full tilt to the senior school. Dean would mock him for acting like a little kid but loyalty had finally won its way through Sam's pissed off brain and he started to think with his heart for the first time in days. If anything happened to Dean he would be devastated, even if he was pissed with him. _For no good reason_, the little voice in the back of his head said. He searched the buildings but there was no sign of his brother. He went out to the football field and checked that before running back to his school. His heart was banging hard in his chest not just because of how hard he was running but because of what he could have gotten his brother into. When he arrived where he normally met Dean, it was to his great relief that his brother stood waiting for him. Sam crushed him with a hug, filled with relief. "Get off," Dean grunted as he stiffly pushed Sam away. Before Sam could ask if he was ok, there was a honking of a horn and their dad was waiting for them.

As they piled into the Impala, Sam noticed their school records lying on the front seat. For the first time in a while he was happy to be leaving a school. When they arrived back at the motel John announced they were heading out to Bobby's the next morning. They packed their bags as well as they could then gathered in the tiny kitchen. Sam sat at the table watching John write in his journal.

"Dad that pen…?" Sam felt his face blush as he stared at the pen.

"Yeah sorry Sam mine kinda' died on me. I borrowed this. Here have it back. I found a few extras in the glove compartment. And this, sorry, I packed it by accident. It's got the same color cover as the wildlife guide." John handed Sam back his novel. Sam glanced over at Dean who was looking deliberately at the TV. It took Sam a moment to notice it wasn't on. "Here's a twenty order some pizza will you?" John handed Sam the money. "Dean you're on weapons detail. Make sure you sharpen the knives. I had to camp out for a couple of days."

Sam had to swallow around a large lump in his throat as he picked up the motel phone to call for dinner. He looked over to Dean who was sitting against the wall unpacking a bag their dad had given him. He watched Dean from the corner of his eye as he made the call. He pretended to be still on the line to study his brother's movements. They seemed to be stiff and stilted. He heard a very slight hiss and Dean's hand went to his left side for less that a second. Sam saw the knuckles of his right hand for the first time, red and angry looking. He realized Dean had been keeping them hidden. Even at sixteen, Dean was well versed in hiding his injuries from prying eyes. Dean had been in a fight. Sam hung up the phone and walked over and crouched in front of his brother.

"You ok Dean? Want a hand?" Sam kept his voice low knowing Dean was trying to keep their dad out of the loop. He obviously wanted to keep it between the two of them and he was going to try and honor that wish.

"I'm ok Sam. Here, take this." Dean plucked a knife from the pile he was cleaning and handed it to Sam. His knife.

Sam ducked his head feeling like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. "Sorry Dean. I shouldn't have blamed you." Sam felt like his entire face was ablaze he was blushing so badly.

"Forget it Sam. Go wash up for dinner."

Sam rose reluctantly, his brain moving quickly over what he had discovered in the last few minutes. Dean never took his book, his knife or his pen. He should have known better. Dean had even told him he never took them. Now his brother was injured because of him. Dean was refusing to accept help or even acknowledge his injuries._ Damn Winchester pride_. Unfortunately he knew what it was like, having a fair slab of it himself. Sam resolved to help Dean out as much as possible and try to make up for being a brat of a brother. He kept an eye on Dean all night but apart from being a little on the quiet side Dean was giving nothing away. Dean went to bed early, claiming he was tired and Sam sat up with their dad who was packing away the weapons Dean had finished running repairs on.

Sam took the whet stone off the table before John packed it away and sharpened his knife on it.

"Good knife that." John nodded at the knife and Sam nodded his agreement. "I still don't know how your brother paid for it."

"Dean…Dean paid for it?"

"Yeah. He hounded me for weeks to give him some money to get you it, but you know what I'm like. It slip's through the fingers. Bit like time I'm afraid. I almost didn't make it back for your birthday at all. If it wasn't for Dean calling me every five minutes to get my ass in gear..." John glanced over at Dean's sleeping form. "He's an amazing kid. He does everything for you Sam." Sam could tell their dad had picked up on the tension between them.

"I got two gifts and a cake." Sam said slowly. "That was all Dean?"

"Yep. What was the other gift?"

"A book I wanted."

"What's the deal with this pen?" John picked the pen up from the table.

"Dean gave it to me when I was scared of werewolves."

"Sounds like Dean. I wonder where he got it from?"

"You don't know?"

John shook his head with a frown. "Who knows where Dean gets things from. Just remember he loves you Sam and will do anything to protect you."

Sam nodded slowly. If John, who was hardly ever around, knew this he should know it to. He suddenly felt like a huge heel the way he had treated Dean in the last few days.

When Sam woke in the morning Dean was out filling up the car and checking the oil and so forth. John had breakfast ready. He ate and finished packing just as Dean pulled up. He heaved a sigh as he found his comb at the bottom his bag. Dean didn't get out of the car just slid over for John and they were on their way for an eight hour drive. Sam tried to catch Dean's eye in the mirrors as they drove along but Dean was looking stonily out the window for the entirety of the trip. Sam noticed that Dean hid his bruised knuckles even in the car and managed to eat without anyone seeing them. Sam noticed he moved a little stiffly when he walked and more so when they finally arrived at Bobby's.

Their old friend greeted them warmly criticizing John about how thin Dean seemed. He had some bad news…he had sold some of the furniture because he had bought a new lot that was more his taste. Whatever that meant. In the meantime, Dean and Sam would have to bunk together in a double he had downstairs while John took the couch.

That night, Sam went to bed early and sat reading until Dean came in ready for bed. Sam waited until Dean lay stiffly beside him before he spoke.

"Dean, I'm sorry about the last few days. I was an ass. I should have come to you with my problems but I let them build up and started blaming you."

"Why?" Dean was still lying with his back toward him.

"I have no idea. I guess I think I am old enough to look after myself." Sam moved over until he lay next to Dean. "I'm sorry big brother I really am." Sam rubbed a tentative hand up Dean's back but Dean hissed and edged further away from him. Sam slipped out his side of the bed and moved quickly around it raising the blankets and slipping into bed in front of Dean. Before Dean could move away, Sam flung his arms around him and buried his head in Dean's chest.

Dean couldn't push his sobbing brother off him. Sam's pitiful noises were making _him _want to cry. Dean stroked a hand through Sam's hair "It's ok Sammy. It's ok." He murmured for sometime before Sam calmed enough to look up at him.

"I told those jerks you had my stuff. I'm sorry Dean."

"It's ok little brother. They got worse than what that they gave and most of them got expelled."

"What? How?"

"They picked on me outside my gym class. My gym teacher saw it all and knew them from the other teachers. Apparently they were on their last chance."

"I'm just glad you are ok Dean."

"Next time come to me before it gets to the beat up point. How long were they beating you up?"

"Just over a week."

"That's about how much I gave them before Henderson pulled me off him."

"Did you get Ryan?"

"The tallest one built like a brick wall, dumb as a post?" Sam nodded.

"At least two black eyes and a broken arm."

Sam looked at Dean with awe "You really did that?"

"Yeah, well, he had the gall to call my brother Wimpchester."

Sam grabbed Dean's right hand and softly kissed the knuckles. "Sorry Dean. I really am. Not just for this but all the times I took you for granted. You have always been there for me and I never let you know I love and appreciate you and I do Dean."

"It's ok. It's just a stage you are going through. You will be over it soon and then we will be headed for deeper waters. Puberty." Dean smirked and ruffled Sam's hair keen to change the subject. But Sam wouldn't be dissuaded and lifted Dean's T shirt up to see the bruising on his left side. Sam inspected the site gently then lowered the shirt.

"You sure you're ok Dean. It looks sore."

"It's ok Sammy just one punch got through. It's fine Sam, but it worries me that you were letting these turds beat you up for a week. How much longer would that have gone on, for a knife that neither of us had by the way. Seems pretty senseless. Sounds like they just needed an excuse to pick on you. What were you going to do if you found the knife?"

"I was hoping to threaten them off."

"Threaten them off with a big brother next time, much safer." Sam nodded and warmth spread through him for the first time in a few days. He clutched at Dean's T shirt as he hugged him tight. "Aren't you getting a bit big for that Sammy?"

"Never Dean."

The End


End file.
